Tradition
by tangledribbons
Summary: In which Hermione is oblivious, Cedric is a slut, and Ron is confused.  Rated T to be safe.


Hermione sighed as she sat in her seat, watching the couples dance. Her elbows rested on the edge of the table, and her chin rested in her slender fingers. The hall she sat in was lovely, all white drapery and bunches of lilies and elegant dancers. And she herself looked fabulous (if she did say so herself); her gown was long, halter necked and dusky blue, with a long slit up one side showing off her toned thighs. Her usually bushy hair had been tamed into an elegant bun, though strands of it had still managed to escape, and had fallen down to frame her face. A light dusting of make-up finished the look, but, she thought to herself as she sat alone at her table, none of that really mattered.

Because, she admitted, she was bored.

Yes, she was at the social event of the year, and yes, she was one of the stars of the evening. And yes, her boyfriend looked rather dashing for once, and yes, she was surrounded by friends and adopted family.

But none of this seemed to be able to stop her from being completely and utterly bored.

"Care to dance?" a deep, male voice, laced with amusement, asked from behind her.

"Who, me?" she questioned with surprise, looking over her shoulder at the man who had spoken. He was tall, golden-skinned and rugged looking, with designer stubble covering his chin, and casually elegant waves of golden brown hair falling into his face.

"Well, I'm either asking you or the table decorations, take your pick," Cedric joked, eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Oh ha ha," she scoffed, though a smile crept onto her lips at the same time, softening her mocking words.

"Oh, just come and dance," he laughed, grabbing her hand and pulling her to the dance floor before she could have the chance to tell him no. A laugh spilled from her mouth as he twirled her around in circles, before sashaying closer to her and placing one hand on her waist, one still holding tightly onto her hand.

"You're quite the dancer, Cedric Diggory," Hermione told him, having to speak loudly over the music. Cedric's only answer was to spin her out of his arms again, pulling her back in quickly, and smiling at the peals of laughter that left her mouth.

All too soon, the song ended, and Cedric bowed to her mockingly, laughing when Hermione played along and curtseyed back. Taking her hand, he kissed it gently, grinning up at her when he heard her tut, and knew she was rolling her eyes.

"You're not such a bad dancer yourself, Hermione Granger," he told her, before shooting her a quick grin and wandering off into the crowd. Smiling slightly to herself, though she did not realise it, Hermione turned and threaded her way through the people milling around, searching for Ron, wondering if she could perhaps train him to dance as Cedric had.

She was wearing red satin, and dancing awkwardly with Ron when he next asked her. Her hair had been styled into curls this time, which fell wildly down her back, to where Ron's hands were clasped uncomfortably around her waist. Cedric stepped up next to them just as the song finished and split them up by holding his hand out for Ron to shake.

"Good to see you, mate," he said, in that guy way which usually so annoyed Hermione, yet somehow made her smile slightly when he did it, "You don't mind if I steal your girlfriend for a dance, do you?" Here, he grinned endearingly, looking every inch the innocent golden boy.

Ron blinked, slightly taken aback by the dazzling smile, and confused by the request, for in his mind, he still could not imagine anyone else wanting to dance with Hermione. After all, she may be his girlfriend, but she was still, _Hermione_. Bookworm. Know-it-all. Bushy-haired. And not for wanting to dance with, under any circumstances. There were tons of beautiful girls here tonight, so why did Cedric want to dance with Hermione, of all people?

"Uh, yeah, sure, go for it," he managed to mutter through his confusion, and, with a half smile in Hermione's general direction, he was gone, disappearing into the crowd.

"I thought I'd save you, your dress was clashing horribly with Ron's hair, and it was making both of you look very unattractive," Cedric grinned charmingly, unfazed when Hermione hit him (quite hard) on the arm.

"You sure know the way to a girl's heart, don't you?" she questioned, pouting slightly at his mocking.

"Who says I'm trying to get to any girl's heart? It's their pants I'm more interested in," he winked at her, deadly serious, before both of them burst out laughing.

"Slut," she grinned up at him, as a new, slower song began playing, and he grabbed her around the waist, forcing her to place her hands around his neck.

"Says the girl wearing that dress," he scoffed, and for a second Hermione was offended, before she noticed that his eyes were sparkling with amusement, in that annoying way that Professor Dumbledore's used to. I'll teach you, she thought, putting a concerned expression on her face.

"You mean you don't like it?" She asked, a worried look in her eyes as she looked up at him through her lashes.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he murmured in her ear, annoyingly unfazed, before twirling her away from him, delighting in the peals of laughter that rang from her lips.

They didn't speak for the rest of the dance, though they shared many laughs as he spun her around the dance floor, paying no attention to the other couples surrounding the pair. And when the dance finished, he bowed to her, this time adding, "it was a pleasure, mademoiselle," to which Hermione replied, "the pleasure was all mine, monsieur," as she curtseyed back.

She threw a wink over her shoulder at him as she walked away in search of Ron, but she missed the enormous grin that spread over Cedric's face as he shook his head and turned away. Later, she would idly wonder why she had done it, but she would come to no decent conclusions and push the memory of the action to the back of her mind, left and forgotten.

The third year of their dance, her dress was a deep green with a plunging neckline, and it was tied around the waist with a thin, gold sash. It was incredibly uncharacteristic of what she usually wore, and though it made her look sexier than he had ever seen her before, he found himself wondering why she had felt the need to dress up, when she always looked beautiful anyway. He himself wore a flamboyant, rich purple suit, with a gold tie and shoes. Hermione only later found out that he wore them because of a lost bet. At the time, she had merely assumed that he was being his usual ridiculous self, and had refrained from commenting on his unusual attire.

This time, he found her at the edge of the hall, in conversation with Ginny, who raised a curious eyebrow at the two as Cedric led Hermione off to dance. Of course, this could have been more to do with the fact that instead of asking her, like any normal guy would have done, he had picked her up, arms clasped firmly around her waist, and carried her giggling away to the dance floor.

"So I don't even get a choice anymore, do I? What if I didn't want to dance with you?" Hermione asked him, playfully glaring up at him, once he had set her down in the middle of the dancing couples.

"Oh, but you have to," Cedric whined, taking her hands in his as they began to dance, "it's tradition now!" Hermione laughed at that, making a grin form on Cedric's face.

"Tradition? Us dancing for one single dance, one night a year, at some stupid, poncy ball that Harry never wanted anyway is tradition now, is it?" she asked, jokingly, sashaying closer to him so that she could hear him over the loud volume of the music.

"Yup. Tradition," Cedric said bluntly, "and besides, it's not stupid and poncy. I think it's all actually rather wonderful," he continued, waving an arm around at the room in general.

"Wonderful, eh?" Hermione asked, eyebrow raised and a small smirk playing on her lips, "wonderful because it commemorates the heroism of everyone who fought in the war? Or wonderful because it gives you an excuse to dress up and hit on all of these poor, impressionable girls?" At the last words, she waved her own arm around, indicating several groups of young women who had been eyeing her jealously for the entire dance, obviously having their sights set on the handsome Mr Diggory.

"Why hit on those girls, when I can hit on you?" he grinned that charming grin again, the one that would've made most girls swoon, whilst Hermione merely tutted and rolled her eyes. He twirled her away for one last spin before the song ended, pulling her into his arms as the last notes played.

"You look beautiful tonight," he murmured into her ear, voice uncharacteristically serious. Hermione was shocked for a moment, her mind having gone strangely blank at his words, and she struggled for a second to think of a response. But then he had pulled away, and was grinning again, bowing flamboyantly, reminding her of Lockhart from the duelling club in her second year of Hogwarts, and she had to laugh at the sight he made, which then pushed his words out of her mind. She curtseyed back, and, still laughing, walked away to find Ron, though her thoughts stayed with Cedric and his ridiculous purple suit and his charming grin.

She was wearing grey when he found her the fourth year. Like the first time, she was alone at her table, but instead of boredom on her features, there was some other, harder to read emotion. Her head was held in her hands, and, on closer inspection, Cedric saw that an engagement ring sat awkwardly on her finger. Ignoring the wave of annoyance and jealousy that passed over him at the sight, he stepped up behind her, forgoing all jokes, for once.

"Dance with me, Hermione?" he asked, voice soft and serious, as he held out his hand for hers. She blinked up at him for a second with unfocused eyes, before shaking her head lightly. He was afraid, for a moment, that she would deny him his dance, but she stood and took his hand, and allowed herself to be led to the dance floor. For once, they didn't speak as they danced, merely holding each other a little tighter than was perhaps appropriate, lost in their own thoughts. It was only when the song ended that Cedric found the courage to ask her.

"Ron proposed then?" he asked quietly, taking her hand as he led her away from the dancing couples, towards an empty table in a corner of the hall.

"Yes," Hermione answered, a strange look flickering across her face before the blank mask was pulled up again.

"And that's a... bad thing?" he questioned cautiously, wanting to get to the bottom of what was bothering her so. She blinked at him confusedly, as though she had never actually thought of the answer to his question before.

"I'm not sure," she answered eventually, and he mentally sighed in relief that she was being honest with him, and not just saying that everything was 'fine', "It's just... he's not... _him_, you know? And I'm not his _her_."

"I get it," Cedric told her, leaning his elbows on the table and looking at Hermione thoughtfully, "but you both feel as though you should marry, because there is no real reason for you to break up." Hermione looked up at him, shock etched onto her face, and she nodded slowly.

"How did you know?" the words were so quiet that he could barely hear them, but he had known exactly what she would ask anyway.

"Because I know you. And I've seen the two of you together. Plus, I'm amazing and know pretty much everything there is to know," he joked cheekily, causing a small chuckle to slip through Hermione's lips.

"Well, if you know everything," she began with a small smile, "then what am I supposed to do now?"

"Not a clue," Cedric told her, leaning back in his seat to grab a drink from a nearby floating tray. Facing Hermione again, he noticed the incredulous looks she was sending his way, "What? I said I knew _pretty much _everything, your question just happens to be one of the few things I don't know!"

"Hmph," was Hermione's only answer, as she grumpily rested her head in her hands, a small pout on her lips. But, Cedric thought, pouting is better than the blank look she had been sporting before, so perhaps he had made some progress at least.

The fifth year, she found him. She had spotted him as soon as she walked into the hall and had kissed her date (George) on the cheek, made her excuses and left to find Cedric. George had done nothing but shake his head in amusement at the oblivious girl and grabbed Luna Lovegood from the crowd before heading to the dance floor.

Hermione stopped a few feet short of Cedric, uncharacteristically nervous. She anxiously checked her hair, to find it was still in its perfect curls falling down her back, and she smoothed out the skirt of her purple dress. She had felt the colour would be a perfect homage to Cedric's suit a few years back, though her version was far more tasteful (though, considering the long slit up one thigh, she had a feeling that her mother would disagree with her about how tasteful the dress really was). Taking a deep breath, she prepared to walk up to him.

Only to look up, and realise that he had moved.

"Shit," she muttered to herself. A deep chuckle came from behind her, and she turned, though she already knew exactly who it was.

"Looking for me?" he asked, a smile playing on his lips.

"You wish, I was actually looking for the love of my life. But, I suppose you'll do, as you're already here. Care to dance?" Hermione joked casually, making Cedric unsure as to the true meaning of her words. But he shook his delusions from his head, knowing that she hadn't meant the implication, and took her hand, allowing himself to be led to the dance floor for once.

"So, no engagement ring anymore?" Cedric questioned, sneaking a peak at the hand in his to make sure.

"Nope," Hermione answered bluntly, flashing him a grin over her shoulder as she wove through the crowds of people.

"Good," he whispered, catching up with her so that she could just about hear his soft voice. Before he could say more, however, they reached the dance floor, just as the band began to play a particularly jazzy song. Grinning that charming grin of his, he took her hands and began spinning her around energetically, not bothering to start a conversation, as they were both too caught up in the dance (and each other) to speak.

The last notes played and Cedric quickly spun his partner into his arms, where she stood, panting as the song finished.

"You really are an amazing dancer," he looked down at her, eyes unusually serious.

"I'm amazing at a lot of things," Hermione joked, trying to lighten the mood, unused to seeing her friend so humourless. Her comment did the trick, and the look in his eyes shifted back to their usual cheekiness, his grin yet again adorning his face.

"And what kind of things would they be, Miss Granger?" he asked, lowering his head towards hers, though she was too caught up in his eyes to notice his movement.

"I guess you'll just have to find out," she grinned playfully, daring him with her eyes. Cedric may have been many things, but he was never one to back down from a dare, and he was not going to start now.

Eyes still locked to hers, he closed the distance between them and pressed his still-smiling lips gently to hers. Cedric allowed his eyes to flutter closed, and so he missed the comical look of surprise on Hermione's face, before his kiss shut her brain down. And then she was kissing him back, and her arms were winding up around to the back of his neck, and her fingers were in his hair, and this was what he had been waiting for for five years, and this was _wonderful. _

They broke apart after several minutes, still grinning at each other, amidst catcalls and cheering. Not one to break away from tradition, Hermione looked her dance partner in the eye and curtseyed, laughing when he sank to the floor and bowed to her, nose on the ground.

"I knew this would be a good tradition," he told her as he led her from the dance floor, hand in hand.

"Pfft, know it all," she replied, laughing.


End file.
